Riesnfield and the Knot
by Risenfield
Summary: Quinn Hunter is a young wizard living in America after the defeat of Lord Voldemort in Great Britain. He attends Risenfield Academy of Higher Wizarding in the sounthern untied states, Rated teen for language that is not nasty, but difficult. Review pleae
1. Chapter 1

The field that so gloriously spread itself out was the color of rich, thick blood. Scarlet not because of the sunset spread luminous and ominous over the quickly darkening sky, not for the wounded and dying buffalo strewn about like forgotten cattle. It was for the imagination of a small blond boy. A boy not any older than ten, who stood at the gates, smiling slightly at the burning ruin of the Manor across the field.

The boy turned and walked slowly, as if enjoying the scenery around him in the early summer air. Ahead, a river wide and rushing with millions of gallons of water pulsed with a steady discordant hum.

The little boy stopped at the edge of the bank.

"_You!"_ A voice shouted outrageously from the gates. A man in flowing black robes came sprinting across the field, his short white hair sticking out in shocked disarray. "_How?"_ The man howled viciously at the boy. "You could take one! You could take one, and you take the ENTIRE SCHOOL!"

The quickly descending reflecting off of the river cast an unnatural glow on his face. "I could take one, and that one, is _you_."

The man behind the boy is at a loss for words.

The boys stone-cold, expressionless face softened as the sun descended finally behind a curtain of mountains in the far distance. Tears filled his gray eyes, and he smiled longingly toward the aging man. "The time has come for us to part, sir."

"You can't... you can't..." the older crashed to his knees, sending out dust in every direction from the softly dying grass.

"Goodbye," the younger fell backwards into the river as it reached up with wet hands to pull him into it's bubbling depths.

In the murky darkness of the flowing river, the boy closed his eyes, his vision done, his mission completed.

* * *

Quinn Hunter would wake that night, not knowing why his dreams had so bothered him. He wouldn't know that over the next year he would be an instrument in powerful relations. He simply stared at the ceiling of his small bedroom, waiting for dim morning light to pull him out of bed.

"Morning dear!" Holly Hunter greeted her son as he entered the kitchen that morning. "Big, big day, huh?" she spooned two large helpings of eggs onto his plate.

"Hey, Mom?" Quinn hesitated, debating whether or not to mention his dream, all the while attacking his poor eggs, but eating a single bite. "Don't you worry," his mother smiled from the stove, taking out her wand and pointing it at the cupboards, where a salt and pepper shaker each zoomed out onto the large, handsome wooden table. "I had nerves before I started school as well." One more flick from the wooden wand, and his hair parted itself from its messy brown self into a slick style.

"Mom!" he quickly mussed it up. All these things weren't unnatural. Quinn's mother and father were a witch and wizard. So were all his brothers and sisters as far as he could tell.

"Morning, good morning!" Quinn's older brother J.J. sang as he bounded down the stairs into the small kitchen. "Hey mom," He kissed her cheek and took a plate of eggs to the table and sat next to Quinn, who looked at his calm brother.

"Hey, you got three days left!" he tugged on Quinn's shirtsleeve, looking hip dressed down to look like a punk rocker who had just rolled from a tangled bed after sleeping in his clothes. Quinn loved this look, and tried to copy it... With little tips from his brothers on the side.

"So do you," Quinn said around a mouthful of hot eggs at the same time as his next oldest brother, Jonathan walked out from the living room.

Jonathan, just like Quinn and older J.J. sported messy brown hair, which hung down to the nape of his pale neck. He looked like he did most of the time: disheveled, as if he'd gotten little sleep, a guitar clutched in one hand, an ink fountain pen stuck behind one of his large ears.

"Morning Quinn-ster," Jonathan grabbed a piece of toast and plopped onto one of the soft, plushy chairs that inhabited the kitchen table.

"Hiya," the smallest brother mouthed around a yawn.

Within twenty minutes, the rest of the family filed down into the kitchen in various states of morning dress. Quinn adored his family. His mother, Holly Hunter, who was strict, but for the most part left the children well enough alone, was a large woman with a soft attitude and warm intentions. J.J. and Jonathan managed to stay in almost constant trouble wherever it was, be it home or Risenfield (the wizarding school the family attended) or even the Muggle town in which they lived. They loved all music, and lived for it. Quinn came next in the line, squeezing nicely into the middle of the group. His younger sisters Lyra and Zinnia could be seen sitting with their legs dangling between the banister support on the stairs.

The next sister to arrive was just older thanJ.J. and Jonathan, Annorah already finished schooling at Risenfield Academy for Higher Wizarding, sporting a healthy Defense Ministry badge and wonderful good looks.

Last, besides his older sister, Vanessa who had moved out, came twenty-three year old Bridger, trudging down the stairs in his mop of hair and black clothes, determined to wear his scowl as long as possible.

And that was until Mr. Niels Hunter entered the room, dressed in stunning navy blue robes that clung nicely to his shoulders, a pinstriped golf hat pressed lightly to his slowly protruding stomach. "Good morning," he almost shouted brightly to six year old Lyra and little four year old Zinnia as he went to kiss his wife on the cheek.

Normally, this bright and cheery attitude would grate on everyone's nerves first thing in morning on a Friday, but seeing as today would be busy with sports, visitations and musical guests, a pregnant reply of booming "Morning!'s" rang out across the room.

"Busy, busy, busy, busy, busy," their father muttered under his breath as he turned into the living room. Quinn smiled after his father, who worked in one of the largest companies in all of the greater United States of America, one that had the Muggle and Wizarding world working together quite well. It was the Human Relations Department of Hanging Chairs Dpt. for Security.

He stalked back into the room, grabbed his automobile keys ("Hey! Wrong keys dad!" shoutedJ.J., after his father had grabbed his son's keys.), grabbed the right ones, walked outside and said goodbye through the kitchen window.

"For a Muggle, Dad's got to be the best Wizard I've ever seen," Annorah tossed her blond hair, then went into the next room, pulling out her wand. "Bye, then!" She said brightly, before Disapparating with a loud _bang!_

"Father might be the the best Muggle ever, but believe me, I bet he reckons he could magic too-"

"Hey," Their mother swooped over Jonathan on her way out of the kitchen. "Watch it mister. Non-wizarding families are just as important as the next one."

The long silence was filled only with the scraping of cutlery on ceramic and the hushed conversations of the youngest. Quinn loved being surrounded by these people, which made his dream, which had been haunting him up until now, slip almost entirely away. Only a few wisps of blond hair held any sway in his mind as J.J. reminded him of their later engagements.

"Hey, little bro," he chortled nonchalantly.

"Hey, big ugly brother," Quinn replied as Jonathan laughed and Bridger smiled a little, where it quickly disappeared.

"Ready for tonight?"

"You know I'm ready, but are you?" For however quiet Quinn was, nothing compared to his enthusiastic feelings he got when he hung around with his brothers.

"Then let's get going!"

They rushed up the stairs and grabbed a few bags. With just one change of clothing. They would be driving down to New Orleans that day to attend the biggest Wizarding musical concert festival held anywhere on all six continents.

They rushed down the stairs, where Holly Hunter stood, looking stern, but broke down. "Oh! Boys, please be extra careful!" She wouldn't be caught crying on her worst days, and instead, as they each kissed her, Quinn stretching up just enough to reach her cheek, and headed out the door, she unwaveringly muttered, as usual, "Muggle cars, almost thirty years with a muggle himself, and still..." Instead of beating herself up, she went about feeding her children.

* * *

_"Hey hey hey mister gorgeous flyer, you got that floating over your sub conscience now don't you_

_ So, sorry mister keen, do it right, _

_ We might just be mean_

_ Do it do it do it over the clouds-"_

Quinn smiled over at his second oldest brother, who was strumming a song by _Sycorax_, one of the bands they were traveling all the way from Pennsylvania to see in person.

"Live in concert!-" J.J., who was driving, called out into the wind that whipped past them.

"May we present!-" Jonathan tacked on.

"The one and only!-" Quinn screamed.

"_Caliban!_" They shouted together, rocketing down a Muggle highway at speeds no less than one hundred miles an hour.

"One day, my dearest brothers, we will be highlighted with these bands of immense, amazing prowess."

"But for now, we will bask in their all giving light," J.J. hummed out a tune from the band.

As wind whipped Quinn's head in the topless, magically charmed Le Baron, he became aware of his surroundings, a wide winding river was fast approaching on the side of the road, and as he watched it swirl by endlessly, he drifted off into a slumber, making up for excited hours lost the night before. A smile on his impish face and a soft song from Jonathan, he was fast asleep.

Now, growing up in a half-Wizarding half-Muggle household, Quinn, unlike other young wizards he'd met, had a hold on the Muggle world. Muggles are people with no magical power in them at all. They couldn't even raise a wind when angry. Like their father, who, although a Muggle working for a Wizarding company, was vehement about incorporating himself into the magical society.

Holly Hunter, their mother, on the other hand, was a full blown witch. Just the week previous, she'd enchanted Bridger's hair so that, no matter how many charms he tried on it, it stayed clipped nice and short. Bridger had taken out his anger by going to find a job.

He quit the same job the next week.

Owing to his large expertise, he fit in in the Muggle world much better than his mother, or his father even, who despite being entirely non-magical, seemed to have forgotten that he was.

Quinn's entire family (sans dad) had attended what was then the best Wizarding Academy on this side of the great pond. Risenfield. Considered by many to surpass any European school of witchcraft and wizardry, Risenfield attests only to the strength of the nation itself.

"Education is your future," Klint Karbaum's rumbling voice came over the static of the radio set into the worn dashboard of the Le Baron.

Quinn, surged awake by the boomed line, was smiled upon by J.J. as he sat up in his seat. He'd slouched into a drowsy stupor, falling asleep in the afternoon light.

"I'm here today," Karbaum's voice crackled to life once again, "on the Wizarding Wireless Network, to speak of our people's education in this country. Over the past decade, two new schooling academy's have sprung up across these great United States. Our school's have not been directly affected by events unfolding in Scotland this time of year, but the fear resided. Working together with the Ministry of Magic from both England and the U.S. all four American schools have come forth with open arms to accept the students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"This past year, as many of you know, the Dark Lord himself was defeated at this historic European monument. But at a great loss," at this, Jonathan and J.J. looked to each other. They'd both known people who had been sent to aid the war in England. "A loss of students countrymen, and allies. The school was left in ruins and is in need of dire repair."

Jonathan's face was set in distress. Quinn couldn't understand. Surely with the Dark Lord, who'd been feared even over the ocean in America, gone, his followers wouldn't stand a chance.

"And, even with this tragedy, it is my great pleasure to inform you of a new policy instated this year. Each of the four American schools will show hospitality and care for a house of Hogwarts School.

"I'm sure, for all the students hearing this, you will be interested to see the new additions at school this coming year. Thank you for your cooperation, and I hope that we can share this... magical airspace again."

With that, the radio tuned back to music as J.J. flicked his wand from the back seat.

There was a small silence as the news (Good? Bad?) was absorbed.

"That's wonderful," Jonathan yanked back on the steering wheel and the car jumped a gas station, landing shakily on the ground once more. "J.J. you remember my friend from Hogwarts... What house was he in?"

J.J. went to open his mouth, presumably to say "How should I know?"

"Ravenclaw." Jonathan gripped the steering wheel. "Graduated two years ago. Haven't heard from him since."

"Hey," J.J. strummed his guitar as the river started to come back into view. "I can smell the sea."


	2. Sycorax and Prospero

The glittering of the Mississippi Delta sparkled in the late afternoon sunlight as they rocketed past towns on their way to New Orleans. It was not surprising to see fireworks raging over the skyline of the fast approaching city. Celebrations of the Dark Lord's defeat still went on. Although, Quinn smiled, these might just be muggle fireworks.

Not until one shot up and turned into a Pegasus that galloped towards the stars before bursting into a radiant blue. "Guys, how come no one freaks out over that?"

"Probably enchanted so only magical folks can see it," J.J. responded. "Besides, the muggle fireworks are a great cover up.

"But, the Fourth of July was last month," Quinn stared.

"The thing you have to know about New Orleanians, is that they never need an excuse to celebrate. Even the muggles."

Quinn laughed as the atmosphere settled in around them. Spirited and dancing in carried them like... well, magic.

That's when the shooting stars came around. two or thee at the most, and circled the car. Their tails ranging from icy blues and golds to lively greens and purples, as they moved closer, Quinn realized they were more pixies than shooting stars. About four inches in height, with transparent, sparkling grassy leaves, the circled the car faster and faster, until it lifted off the ground entirely.

"Hey!" Jonathan shouted in protest, pulling out his wand, ready to blast the pixies off.

"No, not to worry!" came a deep voice. They all swiveled to look at the man in orange and teal robes who had appeared beside J.J. in the back seat.

"Who are you!" J.J. shouted over the rising wind.

"Noxie Romulen!" The man stuck out his hand. "I'm in charge of magical parking here in New Orleans!"

Quinn was in awe as a huge, marshy filed came into view. Hundreds of cars, horse drawn sleds and carriages. Even a hot air ballon tethered to the ground, its colorful canvas in a constant swirl of sparks.

"Entire field is hidden by the enchantments placed so long ago, the beavers around here don't even know of the muggles!" Romulen cackled in a slight French accent that carried through the air.

The car was set down by the pixies, who dashed away, presumably to get another carriage or two.

Noxie Romulen clambered out and directed them forward, "Sorry for the inconvenience, but its just easier to pick the lot of you up!" He then strode away, not another word uttered.

"I just love Ministry members apparating into my car," Jonathan said in a mood bordering between dark humor and extreme sarcasm.

"Ministry?" Quinn was perplexed, "I though all the Ministry members were in Washington?"

"They're everywhere, and if you don't watch out-"

"They'll getcha!"

From the grasses around their car jumped two boys dressed in what Quinn could only comprehend were most definitely women's clothing.

They were greeted by raucous cheers from J.J. and Jonathan, who urged them into the car.

"Benji! Yule! I thought you were coming tomorrow!" Jonathan sped off, albeit much slower than earlier, "Where are you camped?"

"Camped? Sir, in luxury we live, not far from yonder water spigot," the one who Quinn guessed was Yule proclaimed in an adopted Irish accent. He was dressed in a glimmering sequin miniskirt over argyle stockings and a yellow corset that matched his shocking hair, which looked as though he'd stuck a finger in an electrical socket.

"Aye, brother speak no ill! For the revelers are there, and there we reside!" Benji, who wore a somewhat ripped maroon halter-topped dress, stood up on the back seat of the car as they plundered through the aisles of vehicles.

Quinn grinned from ear to ear, so happy to be in this company, even if they were a weird, maybe even weirder than J.J. and Jonathan had made them out to be.

"Lad!" Yule shouted, and Quinn spun around to see one green, one silver eye pressed close to his seat. "Protest you of this?"

"I don't know what your saying," Quinn admitted reluctantly, offering a small smile.

"Brothers in heart, please a reverse of what we speak," Yule said to J.J.

"He wants to know if you're enjoying yourself!" J.J. shouted to be heard over a group of girls in gyrating tie-dye tops that shouted out some teen anthem.

Quinn grinned and could only scream "_Yes!_"

That grin didn't stop as he saw what they were approaching. Two wooden caravan carts had been perched side by side on the far end of the field. In all his time around everyday witches and wizards, he'd never seen his kind at a party quite like this.

"What would Annorah think if she knew this is what you did?" Quinn looked at them bewilderedly.

They all busted up laughing, even Yule and Benji, who must have known her from the years previous. "Annorah? She would have a fit!"

"Did you know Mom and Dad came to this festival when they were our age?" Jonathan grinned as they hopped out the car near the cabins-on-wheels.

"No!" Quinn grinned even larger, just in disbelief.

"Yes, and I'll bet you it was much more than it is now!" as they laughed, they walked around to between the carriages, where a fire had been erected, its purple flames licking the air greedily.

"Aye, aye, aye, if it isn't these guys!" A tall black kid in flowing robes patterned like an African prince.

"Harold! French!" they embraced their friend, and then a girl to his right.

"Who's the new guy?" the tall boy named Harold gestured to Quinn, who was standing awkwardly around all these people he didn't know.

"Quinn.. Hunter," he scratched his head, but said this quietly. "I'm-"

"He's _our_ brother of course!" Jonathan bounded over to put his arm around him.

Everyone looked perplexed, but slowly they all grinned and started talking loudly.

"Looks just like your Mom!" the girl named French piped up in a nasally Minnesota accent.

"Get him a hat!" some one shouted over the strumming of many guitars that had broken out over the campsite.

A turban was fixed over his messy crop of hair, before being replaced with a cap that had propellers attached and made him hover a few inches above the ground, then removed and put on his head was a cap which the earmuffs covered down to his shoulders.

As the sun set lower and lower, and a fog spread itself lightly over the ground. Quinn still had no idea why he had a hat on his head, Jonathan put him on his broad shoulders and they went marching into the foggy grass.

They sang a tune Quinn didn't know as they approached a structure that hadn't been there when they'd first landed.

Two teetering wooden towers stood with the largest sheet of white linen Quinn had ever seen stretched between their lengths as a backdrop to a huge stage.

They pushed through a flashing crowd of teenagers and older wizards alike, all decked out and screaming to a stage where the light seemingly came from the structure itself.

"Where exactly are we going?" Quinn had to shout it twice over the roar.

"To the front of course!" No one can kick us out either because-"

And that was when the deafening, screaming, belt of a first not hit the air in a sonic explosion.

* * *

J.J. didn't even bother to finish, just grabbed Quinn's wrist as they pushed through a sudden surge of blinding energy.

Quinn just let himself be dragged as he submerged his senses to what he'd only heard over the Wizarding radio. It was pounding, melodically, perfect. He knew he would want more.

What he wasn't expecting was a line of blonde witches in an array of towering peacock feathers to stride between himself and his brothers.

"_Jonathan!_" he tried to shout, yelling everyone's name, but to no effect over the grooving bass lines.

Fear and panic started to set in, and in the flashing lights and blasting sound, he could see his vision swim. He managed to finally push past the decked out women and stumble to the edge of the stage, where a large group of men with instruments were strutting around in cut off shorts and nothing else, their bare feet slapping along to a rhythm.

Quinn Hunter turned around and around in a lost and panicked stupor, stumbling blindly away from the stage, suddenly afraid that he would never find his group of brothers.

He forced himself through a group of dancing dark skinned women, who seemed not to notice his little body, and fell headlong right into a boy about his age.

They struggled in a cloth for a moment, before getting up. The boy looked furious at first, but softened only a little when he saw who it was that had plowed him over. He was tying up a long floral skirt, it must have been what they had been tangled up in. "Hey! Watch where you're going much?"

Quinn was paralyzed with fear. He'd always thought he was strong, but if it came to a fight, even without magic, this kid had at least twenty pounds on him. "I -I didn't- Oh man, I'm so sorry..." Quinn tried blurting out, but the kid sort of just smiled.

"Are you alright?" He stuck out a hand for Quinn, who was still on the ground. "I'm just mad 'cause you untangled my _lava lava_."

Perplexity crossed Quinn's features.

The dark skinned boy in the floral skirt laughed. "My skirt! Its called a _lava lava._" He guffawed as he surged Quinn off the ground in a heave.

"Oh..."

"I'm Kiel!" the _lava lava_ clad boy grinned. "Kiel Tauli'i'li!"

"I'm Quinn. Quinn Hunter... My name's not that cool, I guess," he laughed a little at his own joke.

"Naw, its okay. Say, who are you here with?" He looked a little concerned. Quinn felt relief flood through him. The music now had reached a fever pitch and was on a decrescendo to a final note held out. Both boys turned int the direction of the platform, where the men were all yelling out things.

"We! Are! Sycorax!" the lead singer shouted out, his voice magically magnified. The crowd exploded with energy. Quinn and Kiel grinned at each other. "And this is the dance we all want you to know!" The music started in a slow march, but Quinn knew it would speed up to a breakneck pace.

Forgetting each other and the world for a moment both boys just jammed, crammed into a circle of adults with Kiel's same dark skin and heavy-set builds. Quinn let himself almost forget about his brothers, but then suddenly remembered, that this boy must be starting at Risenfield too, making him forget his brothers completely.

"Are you starting at Risenfield this year?" Quinn yelled over the bodacious beats.

"Yeah!" Kiel's face lit up. "You are too? Hey!"

"Hey what?"

"Now I know someone!"

"Hey!"

A bigger wizard who looked like an older version of Kiel came into view from the crowd. "Who's brother are you," he looked suspiciously over at Quinn, who was looking as inconspicuous.

"I'm-"

"He's OUR brother, Noah," Quinn spun around to face J.J. with a look of intense relief on his face. J.J. took a good hold on his brother's shoulder. "We'll be going now."

"See you at school Kiel!" Quinn shouted just as the song ended and the crowd erupted again.

J.J. still had a firm grip on his shoulder, but Quinn wasn't fighting it. He did not want to get lost again. They steered to once again be able to see the stage, where the guys had been joined by a witch in dark green robes, preparing fro a slower song.

"There you are!" Jonathan grinned, "you missed Harold's dance!"

It was as if nothing had happened, and Quinn was alright with that. He was back with the brothers he knew were great. The sky was dark and the stage was a flashing bright beacon.

"What were you doing with that kid?" J.J. rounded on him not furiously, but with a true interest.

"Well, I sort of bumped into him... Hey! he's going to Risenfield this year!"

"I know," J.J. had to shout a little, the music had started again. "His brother goes there too." He seemed a little disappointed.

"Okay," Quinn was a little confused.

"You know how there are six Pantheons?"

"Yeah. You guys are in Wokaih."

"Right. Well these guys are in Leolima. They're our rivals. Not only that, but those wizards and witches-"

"Awe, bro, don't be such a downer!" Jonathan had jumped in and was swaying with French at his side. "Come on, let the kid enjoy the concert!"

Quinn wanted to know what J.J. was going to say, but practically forgot as Yule and Benji had just stage dived off of the raised platform, and were being carried off by the surging crowd.

Quinn was happy. He'd never been out in a group like this before. Never with a group where he could just be himself.

"Never waver, and in good cheer be!" Benji and Yule were yelling back at them.

"The night is young and the moon is high!"

"The moon wanes, but this night does not!"

And with that, the stage was promptly set on fire.

The lead singer of Syocrax had lifted his hand in the air, where a ring rested gaudily, like some victory treasure, on his finger. The ring glowed with a blue intensity, then filled the area with bright white light. The entire stage was now filled with cool blue fire. It lapped at Quinn's face with no more harm than a splash of warm water.

"Yes!" Harold could be heard yelling as the concert reached a crescendo.

"Thank you New Orleans and than you to all the witches out there who make our dreams come true." The singer and his band were now tromping off the stage, frolicking in the flames.

A thousand girly sighs filled the air as they exited.

Benji and Yule were right. There were three more acts, and the night was young. Quinn was in no mood now to quit his party.


End file.
